With the fancy title finally out of the way, we got a job for you scrubs to pick up. You ready to hear it? Good.

My boss, whose name you do NOT need to know, has an interest in a certain item that's been. . . "acquired" by Republic Security Forces on Coruscant. He had originally ordered the item through an entirely legitimate way, and yet the corrupt Republic locked it away so he could not have his rightfully paid-for. . . trophy.

So, what's your part in all this, you might ask? Simple.

Get. It. Back. Intact.

My master only cares who delivers it to him, not who gets it from the Republic. Reward is 300k on delivery. 300,000 credits. No, you read that number right. 300k creds, right in your pocket. If you have the item, meet the bartender in the Club Vertica Cantina. The statue has the phrase you need to say to him. He'll handle it from there.

A loud snore echoed throughout the commons, followed by an obnoxious whistle as Nayar snoozed on a nearby couch. His belt, which held his holsters and guns, lay on the table beside him. A hand clutched a bottle of fire-water nearby, the bottle half-empty and newly cracked. Another hand lay across his stomach, loosely gripping his accuracy visor. His booted feet lay upon the table, and his snoring grew louder the longer he slept.

Maneera poked her head into the room, shaking her head as she entered. Kneeling beside the couch, she slowly and carefully edged the bottle out of Nayar's hand and, after taking a long sip for herself, set it on the far end of the table. "Boss?" Nayar muttered something incomprehensible. "Hey Boss," she said again, louder this time, as she reached up to shake his shoulder.

"Wha- There's no contraband here, I swear- Oh, Mans," Nayar yawned, reaching up to take a swig from his bottle, only to see it on the far end of the table. "Hey, hand that back. I'm not finished with it."

"Long night?" Maneera asked as she returned the bottle. "I can get some caf started if it would help. We've got a job offer."

"More like a simple celebration with the simplest of life's pleasures, but sure, get some caf," Nayar grunted as he slowly lifted himself out of the seat, stretching. "I'd like to hear the job offer, but I've got to check the navigational computer again. TR-0L keeps telling me I've got the coordinates wrong, and I'm not gonna let that bucket of bolts tell me how to fly my bird."

"You know as well as I do there's not a damn thing wrong with the computer. The droid's just got his bolts in a twist, as always." Maneera rolled her eyes as she moved to flick on the holonet terminal; text began crawling up the screen. "Told you buying secondhand was a bad plan."

"Yeah, yeah, let me see the message," Nayar moved to the terminal and quickly read through the short message. "300k for a simple item? That's a trap if I've ever seen one."

"Well of course it's a trap." Maneera grinned eagerly as she moved to the galley counter and poured water into a carafe and switched on the heating element. "That's what makes it such a great job. Three hundred large for pulling this off under the nose of every other free trader and government lackey in the galaxy, plus bragging rights for turning the trap on our would-be employer. It's perfect!" She dumped in instant caf and a healthy dose of sugar. "Free drinks forever and more girls than we know what to do with."

"Well, when you put it like that. . ." Nayar chuckled, moving to put away the now bottled whiskey. "How can I refuse? I'll set a course for Coruscant after we drop off this haul on Tat, we'll make our way there. I just hope it doesn't end up like last time we landed on this sandy hellhole." Nayar whistled as he slowly made his way out of the common room.

"That wasn't my fault!" Maneera called as she followed Nayar out into the corridor. "How was I supposed to know she had a brother?"

"When she mentioned him? Like five times?" Nayar smirked, sitting in the captain's chair. "I'm just surprised he didn't join in. You three looked like you were having fun until the blasters came out." He began to type coordinates in the nav comp.

Maneera heaved a dramatic sigh as she flopped into the copilot's seat. "You turn a guy down and suddenly you're not good enough for his sister," she muttered. "Jerk."

Nayar only grinned more, turning the ship off auto-pilot as the ship came out of hyperspace on Tatooine. "The nerve of some people, eh?" He playfully elbowed her arm as he guided the ship through the desert planet's atmosphere.

"I know! No sense of priorities," she replied as she pulled herself out of her slouch and began keying in their landing authorization. "Tower's giving us the go-ahead to approach."

"How kind of them. Do me a favor as we're landing? Head down to the cargo bay and check on our supplies and cargo," Nayar asked as he swung the ship in a tight curve, heading towards the hanger. "Take TR-0L with you."

"Thanks, Boss," Maneera drawled as she stood, motioning for the droid to follow. "Why do I get stuck with the canner?" The squat little astromech let out an indignant whistle as it trundled out ahead, leading the way to the hold.

"Because that talking toaster is going to be scrap metal if it tells me that I was off by .0008% on my landing," Nayar grumbled, one hand steering while the other handed Maneera a datapad.

"Organic = bad flier // TR= best ever!" the astromech beeped from down the hallway.

"Suuuuuuuure you are." Maneera sighed heavily as she took the datapad from Nayar, then turned and followed TR-0L off the bridge. "Let's see if we can't make some kind of use out of your absurdly retentive attention to detail." After a short jog, she caught up to the droid just outside the cargo bay. "You go ahead and take stock, I'll note anything we're running low on."

"Organic + TR = Done in no time!" the droid whistled, popping his scanner out to quickly read the contents of the crate in front of him. "Cargo = intact // Organic = move to next crate?"

Maneera popped the seal on a second container, lifted the lid, and peered inside. "Intact and ready to hand off." With a shake of her head, she closed and resealed the crate. "The things farmboys will spend hard credits on..."

"Not half as cute as you and that Jawa merchant," Maneera snickered as she lifted the bottle from TR's grasp. "You remember the way he was looking at you... If that wasn't love at first sight, I don't know what is." She tucked the bottle away on the top rung of the weapons rack, well out of the droid's reach.

"Jawa + TR = Burnt robes // Jawa = pests," TR beeped indignantly.

"May want to grab hold of something, Mans. I'm going in for the landing in 20," Nayar sent through her holocom.

"Roger that, Boss," Maneera replied. She tucked her comm away as she leaned against the rack, wrapping one arm around the vertical support. "You heard the man, TR. Lock yourself down and prep for landing."

TR activated his magnetic clamps, rooting him near the spot. The ship rumbled for a few seconds, before Mans felt gravity lose its hold for a second. "Sorry about that. Just entered the atmosphere. Gravity will be back in 5."

Sure enough, not five seconds later, gravity returned its comfortable grasp back on Mans. "Organic = Time wrong =/= 5 seconds // Time = 4.961543 seconds," TR rumbled, rustling back and forth as the ship slowly evened out, until turbulence was no longer a factor.

"Your face equals wrong," Maneera muttered under her breath, willing her breakfast to stay put through the shifts in gravity. Leftover Rodian goulash was not the best plan. Once the ship had balanced out again, she let go of the weapons rack and started back toward the bridge.

"I assume the. . . 'items' are intact, since no screams of horror came from the cargo bay?" Nayar queried as the Centurial Hawk landed with a smooth thud inside the hanger. "Also, the caf finished while you were checking the bay. I already grabbed a cup."

"Everything's buttoned down snug and ready for delivery," Maneera replied, leaning over the back of the captain's chair and dropping the datapad into Nayar's lap. "Usual stuff on the grocery list. Low on booze, out of salsa. Again."

"How are we always out of salsa?!" Nayar groaned, grabbing the datapad. He shook his head, then said, "Never mind that. Head to the ship exit and square away with the customers, I've got the ramp and cargo." He grabbed his belt with his holsters, and quickly buckled it around his waist.

"On it." Maneera nodded and made her way to the exit after a brief pause to grab her scattergun from the bridge locker, tucking the snubbed rifle into place under the back of her jacket before opening the hatch. "Good morning, happy customers!" she greeted, smiling broadly.

Arrayed to meet them was a small contingent of humans, most of which bore the rugged, hard-worn looks that went hand-in-hand with scratching out a living from the sands of Tatooine. The last one, though... the suns had been extraordinarily kind to her. "Good morning," she replied in a warm, smoky voice as she stepped forward. "I trust your journey here hasn't presented any undue difficulties?"

"Nothing that a cold drink and credits won't fix," Nayar grinned as the ramp finally hit the ground, and he activated the loader droid to begin the unpacking. "Of course, there's always a smile and the pleasure of your company, right, Mans?" He elbowed her lightly in the side before extending a hand towards the sun-kissed woman. "Captain Nayar. And this is my business associate, Maneera, Eater of Worlds."

"Chani Driftstrider," the woman replied, smiling as a faint blush rising to her cheeks, setting her hand lightly in Nayar's. "It's a pleasure to meet you both." Behind her, the others moved to begin opening crates, checking their contents.

Maneera nudged Nayar's free elbow, tilting her head back toward the ship. "If you'd excuse us for just a moment," she said to Chani, "the Captain and I need to have a brief discussion."

Nayar gave the woman a wink before turning his back to her and walking with Maneera back into the ship. "Best two out of three, winner gets first try?"

Maneera nodded. "Good luck." She held out one fist, cupped in the opposite hand. "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot," she chanted, tapping her fist against her hand three times before holding her hand out flat, palm down.

Nayar frowned as his fist stayed clenched. They repeated the tapping, with Nayar once again keeping his fist clenched, while this time Maneera held out her fist with two fingers extended. On the third toss, Maneera held out her open hand again, and Nayar offered a fist with two fingers out.

"Next time, Boss... next time..." Maneera grinned as she held up a fist in feigned anger. She brought her hand down to clap Nayar on the shoulder, nudging him playfully back toward the tarmac.

"Next time I'll win again, Mans. You know how these stories go," Nayar gloated, winking at Mans before he headed down the ship's exit to meet up with Chani.

Chani's smile faded into a look of concern as Nayar returned alone. "Everything's alright with you and your..." she paused ever so briefly, "partner?"

"Business associate," Nayar chuckled. "But partner works, too. You know, I don't think I've been around to this part of Tatooine before. Would a beautiful, charming woman care to give me a tour?" He questioned as he offered his arm, a warm smile on his face.

"Looks that way." Maneera shrugged as, outside, Chani laughed and slid her hand into the bend of Nayar's elbow, tipping her head to rest against his shoulder.

"Everything accounted for, ma'am," one of the locals announced as Chani and Nayar strolled past the now-loaded speeder.

"Wonderful," Chani replied. "Go on ahead without me; the Captain and I will be along shortly."

"Business discussions, gentlemen. You know the drill," Nayar called back to the other farmers, the lowered his voice so only Chani could hear it, "But why stop at business, madam?"

**************************************************

The Centurial Hawk lifted from Tatooine, Nayar keeping his face looking straight ahead as the freighter lifted off. Maneera stood behind, counting the credit chips the farmers had payed them. "I thought we agreed that's I'd get a try at her if you failed, Boss! We didn't have to leave so soon!" Maneera grumbled.

"Oh no, we had fun, Mans. But uh. . ." Nayar turned to face her, a massive black-eye across his, well, eye. "Her brother has one heck of a right hook."

Maneera took one look at Nayar, then burst into uncontrollable laughter as Nayar sheepishly turned back to the controls of the ship. He heard that laughter all the way to Coruscant.

Serlynne was pulled out from her sleep by loud ringing of her terminal. She woke up with a start and winced almost instinctively: on Nar Shaddaa, back then, she almost never woke up on her own, someone always brought the girl up, usually by a simple kick.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have programmed this damn thing to wake me in case of any new message.

But Serlynne considered herself a professional, and a true professional usually doesn’t keep his clients waiting. Besides, her dream wasn’t that good anyway. To be honest, it was more like a nightmare: Serlynne dreamed, how she again told Jargo the Hutt, that she won’t work for him anymore, unless he will agree to release her. Only this time, she didn’t pick up from one of the plates that small metal knife, apparently forgotten there by one of the Hutt’s slaves.

The results were… unpleasant. Jargo killed his rebellious little assassin by pressing Serlynne’s body to the floor and putting his entire stinking slimy body on top of hers. She even wasn’t sure what killed her in that dream – lack of air, pressure, or the terrible smell of her former master.

Serlynne was glad the nightmare got interrupted. However, it turned out that the message wasn’t a holo, but merely a text without any date. So it didn’t require her immediate attention after all.

She quickly took a shower and then dressed up, while listening to the message. When it finished playing, Serlynne shrugged.

On the one hand, 300000 credits were good money and could come in handy, especially considering how Serlynne enjoyed buying expensive things. But on the other…

She was an assassin, not a thief. It didn’t meant of course that Serlynne wasn’t able to steal things, she could and did so in the past, however since then she firmly decided to limit herself with killing people. Serlynne found it much more challenging and satisfying to prove herself by hunting and striking down a live target, rather then just taking away someone’s prized possessions, no matter how heavily guarded. She enjoyed the strength, the power she felt each time, when she was taking someone’s life and that was something stealing could never give to her. The sense of accomplishment, clear indication, that Serlynne was faster, smarter and stronger, than the person she held in her crosshair.

Besides, the assassin preferred to know the odds before diving into the fray. She wanted to know who she works for, who is the target, and what kind of repercussions she should expect. The message was deliberately vague and Serlynne didn’t like it one bit.

In this line of work, pissing off the wrong people is a good way to die. And she knew exactly who she shouldn’t make angry.

But more importantly, the assassin preferred to face her target and whatever minions it had all by herself. Which basically meant “no sudden interference from other hunters”. Meanwhile this message clearly indicated that it was sent to unspecified number of beings. And while Serlynne had no qualms against killing her “colleagues” and creating a little chaos, this job could easily become way more messy that it was worth.

Well then, it looks like I’ll have to pass and let other enthusiasts kill each other while trying to deliver the artifact.

But Serlynne still was very curious. Curious about who wanted the artifact, why, and now - about people who are going to take this offer.

I think I am going to pay a little visit to Republic Security Forces on Coruscant. To see who and how are going to take the prize. And who would be there to stop them.

Serlynne smiled.

Yes, that will do nicely. And if things will turn out good enough, maybe I’ll just finish off the last man standing and deliver the artifact myself.

She smiled again and proceeded to cockpit of her ship – to set course for Coruscant.

The pair of red-robed guards stepped silently aside as the doors behind them opened, admitting Soleta into Darth Serevin’s chamber. She stepped just far enough forward to allow the doors to close again, waiting for her master to acknowledge her before intruding further.

“This is unacceptable and you know it,” Serevin snarled, looking up from the datapad in his hands to deliver a scathing glare to the uniformed man on the other end of the holocall.

“My most humble apologies, my Lord,” the man replied, “but this was rather a rush job, and —”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe,” said Serevin, his tone shifting from contained outrage to withering disapproval, “that when provided with a face and a full biometric profile, your people return with documents that wouldn’t fool a reasonably bright toddler?”

“Y-yes, my Lord... I, I mean n-no, my Lord,” the man stammered. Even in the grainy monochrome of the holoimage, Soleta could see him pale.

“What I believe you meant to say is, ‘I will have an acceptable offering in your hands by the end of today, most gracious and benevolent Lord, because I understand that if I fail you again, I will become intimately acquainted with the consequences of incurring the anger of a Sith’.”

“Yes!” the man squeaked, then cleared his throat in a vain attempt to recover some last shred of dignity. “Of course, my Lord. By the end of the day.”

Serevin tossed the datapad onto his desk with a look of disgust as he ended the holocall. “Ah, apprentice,” he said, looking up with feigned surprise, as if he had only just become aware of Soleta’s entrance. “So very good to see you again. How goes the excavation on Arkania?”

“We had just breached the outer walls of the library complex when I was recalled,” she answered as she stepped forward to stand directly across the desk from her master. “If all goes according to schedule in my absence, you should be receiving reports from inside Veeshas Tuwan very soon.”

“Ah, yes, very good,” Serevin replied in the tone Soleta had come to understand meant he hadn’t actually listened to a word she’d said. “It’s fortunate you selected a team capable of taking initiative in your absence; I have an assignment for you.”

Soleta blinked. “An assignment, my Lord?”

Serevin gave a bemused grin. “I’m given to understand masters do such things now and again. This task in particular is one I believe you are uniquely suited to accomplish.”

A mixture of embarrassment and pride brought a blush to Soleta’s cheeks. “I will perform according to your will, of course.”

“You will depart first thing tomorrow morning,” Serevin continued, as if Soleta hadn’t said a word, “on the first liner out to Nar Shaddaa. From there, you will use the identity documents that Intelligence will hopefully have managed to produce and book passage to Coruscant.”

“Coruscant?” Soleta echoed, bewildered. “With all respect, my Lord, I can’t help but wonder if I’m really the person you want for this job. Unless our soldiers were rather more thorough than I’ve been led to believe, there aren’t any ruins worth mentioning.”

“I don’t need you as a digger for this; I need you as an appraiser.” Serevin picked up a second datapad from his desk and held it out to Soleta. “If my sources are credible, and I believe they are, Republic Security forces have seized an artifact of considerable potency. It is your task to procure the item in question and determine its provenance.”

Soleta gave a crisp nod. “It shall be done.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Serevin gestured toward the datapad. “You will be accompanied on this mission by one of Darth Thanaton’s agents; seek him out once you’ve both arrived on Nar Shaddaa. By all means, avail yourself of his skills, meager though they are.” Force-blind, then, Soleta pondered. Wonder why he’s working for the Dark Council. Serevin leaned forward, hunger openly apparent on his lean face. “Understand, however, that under no circumstances is this artifact to be delivered to anyone other than me. Do I make myself clear?”

The subtext couldn't have been clearer. Use him, dispose of him. “Perfectly, my Lord,” Soleta replied with a deep bow.

“Excellent. I look forward to your successful return.”

"I may be on the side of the angels,but don't think for one second that I am one of them."

A male jet-black haired Imperial agent with spectacles and a white lab coat approached a Sith's office, where he witnesses a pureblooded Sith on his knees before an elder human Sith. The elder Sith spotted the scientist almost immediately, as he motioned with his hand for him to stay where he is as he returned to the Sith kneeling before him.

"You were up against the SIS and the Jedi Order both, with bioscans of key individuals, yet you have the audacity to claim unforseen difficulties when your infiltration crew was captured and mostly killed due to your own failure," the elder Sith chided.

"With all due respect, Lord Thanaton, they were supposed to be the ones doing the infiltration while I charged in looking for it."

"And that is why you fail," Thanaton finished, "you gravely misused your passion, leading to the mark of an incompetent Sith...failure. Does being headstrong and uncontrolling with your passion fulfill the Sith code? No. You cost yourself your footing as well as your team. This is the third time you have spat on Sith tradition with your failure, Lord Karin."

"My Lord, please have merc-" Karin was cut off by an invisible force snapping his neck.

"The second you asked for mercy, you have irredeemably flouted Sith tradition," Thanaton spat as he looked up and spotted the agent, his expression showing slightly more respect, but remained dominant with disdain, "ah, Agent Quintus, you are rather punctual. You have a... souvenir from Ambria for me, yes?"

"I never finish empty handed," Quintus scoffed as he handed Thanaton a tablet. "I have small teams watching Apatros and Ambria at all times, my Lord."

Thanaton inspected this tablet, nodding as he did so. Satisfied, he laid it down on his desk for study later. "Though I hate to admit it, you do succeed in places where some Sith could not," Thanaton motioned to Karin's corpse for emphasis. "Let that be a reminder that I frown upon failure and excuse. That being said, you have come just in time for your next assignment, Q."

"Figures, my Lord," Q nodded, "I am always on the move, are I not?"

"Indeed," Thanaton allowed a small chuckle before continuing, "I trust you have been keeping up with the news, agent?"

"I might have," Q answered.

"Perfect. Your mission entails going to Nar Shaddaa, then Coruscant. You will be provided with a liner from here to Nar Shaddaa first flight out. I trust that rats like you in Intelligence fabricate the necessary documents to get to Coruscant, yes?"

"Yes, my Lord," Q sighed disdainfully at Thanaton's personal attack, "Coruscant is nothing, with all due respect. Most of the Jedi temple ruins have been scoured by Sith and Intelligence alike."

"Then you have not looked hard enough. That is why I need an elite operative like you," Thanaton handed his operative a datapad, "as you can see, the Republic Security Forces have acquired an item of significance, and the underworld wants to get their grubby hands on it. I have intercepted this yesterday while you were finishing up on Ambria. This has the chance to further Sith knowledge and Imperial science both. I was hoping that an Intelligence rat like you would be more well-informed, but I resign I will settle with disappointment."

"What shall be done, sir?"

"You will deprive the Republic of this artifact, determine its value, then furnish it before me. Our friend Karin has proven to me that I should send you instead of a Sith. This mission is too...delicate for newer Sith."

"I understand, my Lord," Q gave an impassive nod, "I will be on the first liner out."

"Stop. One more thing is worth mentioning," Thanaton stopped his agent short at the door. "You will not work alone. You will be working alongside Serevin's apprentice. Use her skills as you will, but know this well; underestimate a Sith at your own peril." Typical Sith arrogance, Quintus rolled his eyes in disdain. Thanaton then turned his agent around so he would be staring into his scarlet pupils, "but Serevin will be disappointed. This artifact is mine, no matter who stands in your way. You are not to hand it to her or anyone. Any questions, Agent?"

OOC: Circumstances lead to my departure from this RP. Because of this I would say the things described in this post never happened. It is, like we called such things in the other threads, non-canon now.

Spoiler

Coruscant, Justicar Territory

Somewhere deep in the Justicar Territory, there was an accommodation without surveillance. A privilege the Justicars granted only a few loyal residents. Not that it would have made a difference, though. Monitoring the Envoy would have been a task for a specialized SIS agent, not for a militia of ex-soldiers.

The Envoy was sitting in the living room, together with his team. All four of them were Togruta.

“...The statue has the phrase you need to say to him. He'll handle it from there. So, what are you waiting for?” Toreesh Naryn finished reading. He was the only orange colored Togruta among them, the rest was dark blue.

“Interesting,” the Envoy said with an intrigued voice, even though he was leaning back at the couch and looked quite relaxed.

“Who got this message?” asked Nylee Saa, a female Togruta who had been fiddling around with her techblade the whole time.

“People all over the holonet are sharing it,” Toreesh said. “It goes back to a semi-public channel, I think. But the sender is anonymous and I doubt I can track him down soon.”

“So what do we do now?” Asaak Kalvos, the last member of the team, a male Togruta, asked.

“It is obvious, isn't it?” the Envoy said with a mysterious, but revealing smile on his face.

“Well, we do have two targets left,” Nylee said.

“But he is right,” Toreesh insisted. “This outclasses killing Black Sun's spice lords for the Justicars by a factor ten.”

“True,” Nylee admitted. “But we don't even know where this thing is.”

“I will talk to the senator,” the Envoy said. He tone made it sound like a suggestion and a decision at the same time. “He might know someone who knows.”

Nylee looked around at the two others, who just nodded. She activated her techblade and swung it around a little

“Well, lucky spice lords then,” she said and placed it on her back.

"I was one of many. We were servants of the dark side… Sith Lords, we called ourselves. So proud.In the end we were not so proud. We hid… hid from those we had betrayed. We fell… and I knew it would be so."
-Ajunta Pall

Two Imperial agents, both Chiss, one a male in a black trenchcoat with a hideous knife scar on his face, and the other a female in an Imperial officer uniform, entered the chambers of Darth Jadus, where the dark lord had summoned them. None had ever seen the dark lord in person, only heard rumors about him. Both knelt before him.

"My lord," Zero started. "How may we be of service?"

"I summoned you here for an important task," the Sith spoke in a voice that seemed to inspire terror in the people around him.

Zero shuddered a bit in fear, and even Meanken seemed to be a bit afraid of the Sith; not that he would ever admit it though.

"Fail, and you will know terror beyond anything you will ever imagine." he turned around to face them.

"I don't make a habit of failure." Meanken said, trying his best to hide the fear he felt.

"We will do whatever you require of us, my lord. We live to serve."

"Speak for yourself." Mean thought.

"I can sense your fear." Jadus leaned forward, looking at both of them for a moment before standing back up straight.

The Sith was silent for a moment, contemplating. Finally, he spoke in the same tone as before, "The two of you will be my agents of terror. There is a... parcel... that I require that is in the hands of the Republic. The two of you will infiltrate Coruscant and retrieve this parcel."

Meanken smiled, "Agents of terror? I like the sound of that. What exactly is in this parcel? hard to locate something if you don't know what it looks like."

"I will leave specific details to Keeper," Jadus replied. "All you need to know is that it is important to me and you shall be rewarded if you succeed."

"It will be done, my lord. Do we have your leave to go?"

"If you have nothing else," Jadus spoke. "Now leave me. I have terror to contemplate."

Zero bowed one more time, and the two agents quickly turned and left the room.

********************************

"You have returned. There is much to do and little time to waste." Keeper spoke as the two agents entered the room.

Meanken leaned against the wall, pulled out his custom knife, and started sharpening it while Zero stood at attention "Darth Jadus said you were going to tell us about our mission?" she asked.

"Yes," Keeper grimaced slightly. "He's sending you into the very heart of the Republic; Coruscant. A mission like this will be incredibly difficult."

"Great, THIS is going to be SO much fun" Mean said sarcastically

"Jadus said something about a parcel?" Zero asked.

"Yes, a statue to be exact." Keeper took out a datapad and handed it to the agents which contained a message.

"Damn," Mean said "That's one high price."

Zero looked at the message. "Interesting," Zero spoke. "Do we know who sent this message?"

"Unfortunately, not yet," Keeper replied. "Whoever sent this covered their tracks well. Be prepared for anything. No doubt you two will not be the only ones after this package."

"For 300,000 creds? Half the galaxy will be after this package." Mean said.

Zero, however, was still looking close at the message. "Sir.....have you noticed this? The last paragraph. It reads, "My master only cares who delivers it to him, not who gets it from the Republic." The only people I know of who call one another master are Sith and Jedi. from what I can tell, whoever wrote this message seems to be trying to sound like an underworld type, but they seem to have given themselves away in this line."

"Our concern is not the identity of the sender. For now anyways. I will investigate further into this," Keeper spoke. "You two worry about delivering the package to Jadus. I don't need to remind you of the price of failure."

"Yes, yes, do the job or die a horrible death. You really don't need to remind us every single mission, you know." Mean said.

"We will not fail, sir. is there anything else?"

"One other thing," Keeper began pacing. "The two of you will be alone in enemy territory for this mission. I don't like this, but we have no other choice. You have your mission. Find and retrieve the package and bring it to Darth Jadus."

Meanken rolled his eyes "Oh, I thought I would have an army at my back on the Republic homeworld, thanks for clearing that up."

The two turned and walked out of the room, heading to their X-70 Phantom-class ship, nicknamed "The Deathbaron" and departed for Nar Shaddaa, where they needed to meet up with a contact and get some false paperwork made for the trip to Coruscant.

Soleta stretched as she disembarked from the starliner, careful to keep a protective hand on the messenger bag that held her lightsaber. Relieved to finally be able to get up and move after being crammed into a steerage-class seat for the entire flight from Dromund Kaas, she wandered the concourse, keeping a watchful eye out for the man Darth Serevin had told her to expect. None of the other passengers gave her so much as a passing glance; dressed in her digger's gear of plain pants and hooded tunic with sturdy hiking boots, her lightsaber tucked safely away from prying eyes, there was nothing to distinguish her as worthy of attention.

Quintus, dressed in his chrome lab coat and spectacles, emerged from the same hangar and into the concourse as he once more glanced at his bioscan profiles, carefully studying the dossier of the Sith Thanaton charged him with finding. As he put away the bioscan, he once more examined his other fellow passengers, most of them not looking worthy of his time nor attention until he came across a hooded female closely resembling his bioscan's profile. The agent stealthily approached his target of interest, then broke the ice. "Excuse me, but I believe you have dropped something," he spoke swiftly as he furnished a datapad.

The girl's hand plunged into the bag at her hip as she spun to face Quintus, her posture tense and wary until recognition set in. A blush rose to her pale cheeks, and she let out a nervous chuckle as she accepted the datapad with her free hand. "You must think me terribly silly right now," she said. "It's just... I've never been to Nar Shaddaa before, and one does hear stories..."

"Indeed. Some in the Empire do consider Nar Shaddaa to be the slums of the galaxy after all," Quintus allowed himself a snicker before his face resumed an impassive look. "Nice to meet you, I am Q."

"Soleta Zashare," the Sith replied, smiling warmly as she drew an empty hand back from her bag and extended it toward Quintus. "A pleasure to meet you, sir. I believe we have some time before our next flight; might I suggest we find someplace a touch more private to discuss our plans?"

"Of course," Quintus smirked as he extended his own right hand then took hers. "I believe there is one not too far from this concourse: the cantina."

Why is he making that face? Did I say something untoward? Soleta wondered as she brought her hand back, letting it flutter awkwardly down to rest against her bag once again. So much simpler on a proper dig. "Sounds wonderful," she said aloud, her smile fading. "By all means, please lead the way."

"If you will follow me, then," Quintus spoke as he escorted Soleta into the spaceport's cantina. He ordered two drinks, flicked the bartender a credit chip, then brought Soleta into a VIP lounge. "Is this venue more to your... liking?"

Soleta stared wide-eyed at the lounge's lavishly gaudy decor. "Oh my goodness, this is certainly... umm... nice? Are you sure you won't be overheard, though?"

"You can be sure about that," Quintus replied as he made eye contact. "These are relatively... soundproof."

"Good." Soleta tucked herself into a booth and settled her bag on her lap. "Now, if I may ask, how much have you been told about our assignment?"

Quintus let himself fall into the other side of the booth. "I have been told that what we seek is on Coruscant, and that it is of great value. However, its importance is hyped to the point where plenty want to get their hands on it. "

"That will make things troublesome." Soleta frowned thoughtfully as she rummaged around in her bag, eventually pulling out Darth Serevin's datapad. She called up her briefing notes and slid Quintus' pad across the table to him. "Judging by the information I've been provided, our only practical knowledge of the object is that it is a piece of statuary, currently in the possession of Republic Security. Unless you know more than I do...?" She trailed off, her tone lifting hopefully.

"From what Thanaton added to my datapad, the underworld thugs offer 300 grand for it, but that is moot. There is a phrase inscribed on the statue, though whether that would merely serve who lost the statue and not us is beyond me," Quintus sighed in deep thought.

Soleta's frown deepened. "I dislike being sent into the field blind, though it seems there's little enough we can do to remedy that." She paused to take a cautious sip of her drink. "This tastes absolutely vile," she murmured in a tone of wondering amusement before taking another, slightly longer sip.

"That's a Nar Shaddaa drink for you," Quintus mused as he took a lengthy sip of his own drink. "So, so far, our only real knowledge of the object is that everyone is after it, it's currently in the possession of the Republic, and that it is a statuary object. Anything else?"

"That covers everything I'm aware of," she replied. "Are there any other bits of business we should discuss?"

"Getting there, of course," Quintus answered. "Fortunately for us, I know a couple of Fixers who can furnish appropriate identity documents to ensure safe passage."

"Oh, that's not a worry." Soleta pulled another datapad from her bag and set it on the table. "My master ensured I was provided with all the right papers before I left Dromund Kaas." She peered questioningly at Quintus. "Didn't Darth Thanaton do the same for you?"

Quintus merely smiled as he too furnished another datapad. "He did. I see you also came prepared. I was merely testing you, and you passed."

A bright, pleased smile flickered briefly across Soleta's face before being replaced by a look of studied indifference. "Well done to both of us, then. And with passage to Coruscant already booked, that has that nicely sorted. I suppose that leaves us with establishing how exactly we're to go about working together."

"I suppose so." Quintus' smile faded into an impassive stoic wall. "It is no secret that Sith see those who cannot use the Force as lesser beings, and it is no secret that those like me disdain that aspect, so we will need to reach some sort of middle ground at some point."

"Oh, no. No no no no no." Soleta brought up her hands, shaking them back and forth in a frantic gesture of negation. "That's not what I meant at all. It's just that I don't really know much of anything about you, beyond the very little bit I've been briefed on, and I assume the same goes for you about me, so I thought it might be helpful if we laid all our skills down on the table, as it were, so we can figure out how to make the most effective use we can of what we have. I mean, clearly you're not lesser, you work for one of the Dark Council, after all, directly in one of the Pyramids, whereas I'm only just indirectly involved through the work I've done with the Reclamation Service, so if anyone's at the bottom of this organizational chart, it would be me, though I'd hoped it wouldn't come down to hierarchy since there's only just the two of us, and it seems just a bit silly to worry about rank at a time like this and oh dear, I'm babbling aren't I." She took her glass in both hands and wedged herself into the corner of the booth, looking like she wanted nothing more in all the galaxy than to disappear completely.

"Do not misjudge my intentions," Quintus spoke as he tried to reassure her. "I would like to keep rank as a non-issue, given that we are a team, are we not? You will find that although I am somewhat trusted by an upper level Sith, I do disagree with much of what he has to say. Darth Thanaton once said that science and archaeology can be expended in the name of Force and Sith Tradition. I disagree."

"And you're perfectly right to do so," Soleta replied, drawn back out of her corner. "Without grounding in the past and vision for the future, what are we but blundering thugs? Power is wasted on the willfully blind."

"Indeed it is," Quintus sighed. "If they had their way, the Empire would be run into the ground from day one."

"It appears we have an understanding. The Empire stands to gain greatly from our allegiance... to say nothing of the benefit to ourselves." For the first time, Soleta sounded like a Sith, imperious and self-assured. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the sense of power in her voice faded, leaving her to sound once again like an over-eager schoolgirl. "Returning to my original question, though... I know almost nothing about who you are or what you do. How would you suggest we put our respective areas of expertise to best use?"

"I am quite skilled in the realms of science, intelligence, and blaster combat, and you?"

"Intelligence gathering? Oh my goodness, I've never worked with a spy before... at least, not one that I knew was a spy. This is going to be simply fantastic, like something from a holonovel." Soleta grinned dreamily for a moment, then shook her head. "Right then. I've had the standard array of Sith training, of course, though I feel it only fair to warn you that my saber work is a touch weak. My primary area of expertise is archaeological field study."

"In that case, we should have no problem with this artifact," Quintus praised.

Zero and Mean disembarked from their ship, being sure to activate the ship security.

"The ship will have to stay here; it will draw too much attention where we are going." Zero stated

"Well, at least I will be able to get nice and drunk before we go"

Zero grabbed Mean "We are on the job, mean. There will be no getting drunk, no gambling, none of that. The only reason we are here is to get our documents and a passenger shuttle to Courscant. Understood?"

"Yes.....oh, before we go, you need to get out of that." Mean pointed at Zero's imperial officer outfit, which she still had on, causing her to blush

"Oh......yes, that would help."

"I keep a spare white trenchcoat in my closet on this ship, go put it on." Zero quickly ran into the ship and put on the trenchcoat "How do I look?" she asked

"Fine, can we get this over with?"

"Yes. Off to the cantena, I have arranged a meeting."

The two agents walk into the spaceport cantena, and walk up to the bar "Hello" Zero started "Me and my friend here need you to fix us up a drink" the bartender's eyebrow goes up at the word fix

"And what kind of drink would that be?"

"A drink that will get me places."

The bartender pretended not to notice, and started to walk away, motioning for them to follow with one finger. He lead them into a side room, where a man sat, rising as the two entered

"Fixer 12, imperial intelligence. I take it you are here for the documents?" he turned around, grabbing two holopads "These are perfectly made, it is nearly imposable to tell these are a fake." he pointed at Meanken "Your new name is Lormali, you are a home defense system salesman, on a trip to Coruscant for business reasons." he pointed at Zero "You are his wife, Antaris. You are unemployed, and are coming with him to see the sights. Simple enough, yes?"

"Sure" Mean said, looking bored again

"Understood" Zero said "Transportation?"

"We have secured you two tickets on the next shuttle to Coruscant. It will be leaving soon. Look over the documents, and make sure you know them by heart. I have to go, excuse me" Fixer 12 quickly left, leaving the two agents alone.

"So, guess we start reading?" Mean asked

"Not much else to do until it is time to leave." With that, both agents picked up the documents and start reading.

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The statements and opinions expressed on these websites are solely those of their respective authors and do not necessarily reflect the views, nor are they endorsed by Bioware, LucasArts, and its licensors do not guarantee the accuracy of, and are in no way responsible for any content on these websites.